A Noble Rebellion
by symphonyofsilence
Summary: RenjiXByakuya - You begin to wonder if this brash and reckless young vice-captain of yours is starting to blur the lines between emotion and façade you have so thoroughly built up.


Hello everyone this is a new piece that I have been working on, its a oneshot and its my first try at second person POV.

I put in Byakuya's POV because I think it suits him and I tried to give them the justice they deserve since these two look really cute together. It's a RenjiXByakuya piece which means mentions of manXman love so if your not into that please hit the back button.

There are some minor spoilers for the SS arc in this one.

This is unbeta'd so if there are any mistakes I apologize in advance.

Bleach of course is not mine

Now without further ado...

* * *

You are unused to being challenged so brazenly and with such impertinence. On your face is anger and disbelief of this man, this underling of yours that so easily draws his sword against you. When he spouts off his reasons for the confrontation you listen patiently, then throw them back in his face but he does not back down. Truthfully you didn't think he would, because once this man says he will do something his iron will rests in his dark eyes and in the way he holds his zanpakuto just that way; arm bent, fingers twitching, ready for the ensuing fight.

You see the cocksure way he defies you, chest out and chin up and for a moment you have to hold back a smile, for it is your sister that he fights so ferociously for. Nobles should not show emotions, they are something for the common born but you feel it and inwardly you lift the corners of your mouth in a smile no one can see. You clash sword upon sword in battle and he is strong, much stronger than you had originally expected but he is not strong enough. You defeat him but the battle is not over. Even when his blood paints the ground you walk upon and your Bankai has destroyed his flesh the glint in his eye is still there, unwavering, promising his own personal recompense for the defeat he has suffered at your hands.

The man intrigues you now, for one does not so easily stand up to your cold, highborn stature. This man, this Rukongai dog he so easily refers to himself as seems to have no problem with it. The defiance in him reminds you a little of yourself all those many, many years ago, before your other half, before _she_ left this world, left your side and you became the half-man you are now; broken, bleeding and incomplete. Just the thought of her brings back that cold ache and you feel as if you are standing on a precipice to look out upon the grey nothing that is your future without her. You push that thought firmly aside. You can't think of it, even now.

Instead your mind falters towards different colors, waves of brilliant vermillion, etchings of deep black, and sinews of tawny skin. Coal black fabric atop snowy white stretches across his broad shoulders and it is akin to your own uniform, yet so different when he is wearing it. You wonder how pale pristine skin would look pressed up against all those colors but shake your head at the thought. You realize with a start that you have been staring out of the corner of your eye and catching every move he makes across from you in your office. You decide these are not thoughts that should be entertained by the head of the Kuchiki house and you go back to your paperwork like all good captains do.

It is easy to put off these thoughts… For a time that is but once an intriguing subject such as this has been brought to your attention it is hard not to think of it. You find yourself noticing little things about this fascinating creature before you that makes your inner smile curve to life once more. It is the ease in which he laughs, full bodied and carefree. The crass, simplistic way he speaks which somehow seems to get the point across more eloquently than your verbose, polite vocabulary. Then there is the way he sighs and moves his wrist just so when he has been filling out forms for hours on end. How he meets your eye with that same glint of smiling defiance even if his mouth forms the words to properly address you. You want to watch this crimson haired mongrel more, but mongrel doesn't seem the right word any longer. To be honest he seems more man now than dog.

You begin to place these things in the little box in your mind that is only his to play over later when sleep is unforthcoming, which is more often than not these days. To sleep is to dream of betrayal from close comrades and you grit your teeth that you have been played like a pawn into the hand of once deemed friends. Your noble pride has been bruised at that and although it hurt badly you could have lived with it but it wasn't just you. Your sister was used just as thoroughly as you, another member of your precious house and that betrayal stings far worse than any other. You swore to _her_ that you would keep the young woman Rukia safe.

_He also made a vow for her safety_

Your mind reminds you of that fact and yet one more item is placed within the growing contents of the box.

"Hey Taichou!"

He greets you with his confident voice, white teeth flashing in a smile. You nod towards him with your cold noble mask in its place but that inside smile has shown up again and you are concerned that it is beginning to glisten in your eyes. You start to wonder if this brash and reckless young vice-captain of yours is blurring the lines between emotion and façade you have so thoroughly built up. You conclude that it is better not to think about such matters because a part of you is worried at the destination of where that thought path will take you.

You decide again not to think of such things but it seems as though your defiant young self has awoken from his eternal slumber and wants to claw his way to the forefront. You remind yourself of the vow you made to follow the law but that rebellious side reminds you that to know the laws is to know the loopholes, and you know every law there is it seems. You look to him once more, sitting silent, brush in hand and he is looking back at you. Dark brown-red eyes openly trace the angles of your face and if you were a weaker man you would have blushed at the frank, searching look he gives you. You do not though. He looks as if he is about to say something but hesitates, then shakes it off and goes back to work. A part of you wonders just what lay on the tip of his pink tongue but you never ask.

That night you can't sleep. You are alone in your bedchamber and drop the cold mask that usually sits so perfectly on your features. Your hand drifts over layers of fine silk, colorless in the darkness of this moonless night. You let your inner rebellion take over and single-mindedly it takes you to those colors etched so completely within you now. Vibrant tresses of scarlet pulled tight against beautifully shaped bone, twin pools of the brightest garnet looking into you, feral, ornate black tattoos that glide against hard taut muscles. You gasp as you grip yourself and it doesn't take long before that reckless abandon is reached and rushes through you, leaving you trembling and breathless in its wake.

When you are done you use a phrase that you have heard him say before. You make sure that it is not said aloud though…

_I am so fucked._

You go on as you always do, the mask is back in its place, however it does not feel as secure as it once did. His eyes seem to burn you when he thinks you are not looking and for the second time in your life you wish that you could respond the way you want to. But like the leader of your house you respond in the way you need to. Lids pulled low over gunmetal grey eyes. Apathetic aristocracy painted across your features as you walk past. You are not sure but you think you hear him sigh.

A familiar feeling starts to work its way through you. It is a righteous anger you felt once before when you had met _her_. It is an anger that fills your senses for the nobility that you are. Common born may choose to be with whomever they please but you are bound by obligation to the house you were born to and to the house you now lead. Your family pushes you to find a good noble woman that will bear healthy children but each potential wife you meet seems insipid, plastic, vapid and fake. You wish to tell them that their ridiculous efforts at matchmaking are not needed but you know where that conversation will lead. You do not need another lecture on obligation.

The lady that has come to the manor today to proclaim herself is just like the rest, a trophy wife in waiting, she has small hands, large eyes and colorless hair. You inwardly sneer at the pointless tete-a-tete taking place and your stoic face seems to rest on a precarious pinpoint which at any moment could slip crashing to the floor. Of course she does not notice and the meaningless dance of words continue.

"More tea Lady Shizume?"

"Why yes, thank you Kuchiki-sama."

When she leaves you breathe a sigh of relief that your home is once more yours but the walls of your palace seem too tight, it constricts your thoughts. You leave the confines of your home to a place you can think, and you have been doing it a lot these days. You mask your reiatsu when you leave because the place in which you are going to you do not wish to be followed. It is spring this time of year and the sakura orchard you find yourself in feels like snow in winter and pink petals are fluttering in lazy circles about your feet. It reminds you of Senbonzakura.

You reach the crest of a hill and your eyes catch sight of blood red, black on white, tattooed forehead. Your reiatsu is no longer masked and he looks up when he senses you. The look he has in his eyes makes your heart beat in just that way.

_Thump, thump… Thump, thump… Skip, thud._

In his eyes is the desperate longing of a man that desires with his all but cannot have. It runs so deep that it almost infuses his essence with the power of it. His eyes do not hide the emotion and you feel your pinpoint façade crumble at your feet, shattering on the ground like your emotions are shattering upon your features.

He has taken away your mask.

His name falls unbidden from your lips in a half sob, not the formal name you use but the one you have dreamt of saying. He hears you and is beside you so fast you are sure he has used shyunpo. What little breath you had is ghosted away with the strength in which you are kissing each other. His taste is like sweet fire, morning sunlight and brazen rebellion.

You hold each other in a fierce embrace, squeezing in time with the ache in your heart at how right this feels and yet how wrong others will tell you it is. He kisses your forehead in an almost chaste way and holds you close. His chin presses easily to the shell of your ear.

"Oh fuck Taichou, you have no idea how long I've wanted…"

"Not Taichou. Not here. In this place with you I am simply Byakuya."

It is the truth. This man you are holding within the circle of your arms makes you realize that you are not just a Gotei 13 Captain, not only the firstborn of a noble house or the leader of a clan. Here with him, you are also a man.

* * *

~Symphonyofsilence

Please review I would love to get some feedback on this one!


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